Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy — Volume 2 eBook

CHAPTER III.

Two days had succeeded to the departure of the officers
from the fort, but unproductive of any event of importance.
About daybreak, however, on the morning of the third,
the harassed garrison were once more summoned to arms,
by an alarm from the sentinels planted in rear of the
works; a body of Indians they had traced and lost at
intervals, as they wound along the skirt of the forest,
in their progress from their encampment, were at length
developing themselves in force near the bomb proof.
With a readiness which long experience and watchfulness
had rendered in some degree habitual to them, the
troops flew to their respective posts; while a few
of the senior officers, among whom was the governor,
hastened to the ramparts to reconnoitre the strength
and purpose of their enemies. It was evident
the views of these latter were not immediately hostile;
for neither were they in their war paint, nor were
their arms of a description to carry intimidation
to a disciplined and fortified soldiery. Bows,
arrows, tomahawks, war clubs, spears, and scalping
knives, constituted their warlike equipments, but neither
rifle nor fire-arms of any kind were discernible.
Several of their leaders, distinguishable by a certain
haughty carriage and commanding gesticulation, were
collected within the elevated bomb-proof, apparently
holding a short but important conference apart from
their people, most of whom stood or lay in picturesque
attitudes around the ruin. These also had a directing
spirit. A tall and noble looking warrior, wearing
a deer-skin hunting frock closely girded around his
loins, appeared to command the deference of his colleagues,
claiming profound attention when he spoke himself,
and manifesting his assent or dissent to the apparently
expressed opinions of the lesser chiefs merely by
a slight movement of the head.

“There he is indeed!” exclaimed Captain
Erskine, speaking as one who communes with his own
thoughts, while he kept his telescope levelled on
the form of the last warrior; “looking just
as noble as when, three years ago, he opposed himself
to the progress of the first English detachment that
had ever penetrated to this part of the world.
What a pity such a fine fellow should be so desperate
and determined an enemy!”

“True; you were with Major Rogers on that expedition,”
observed the governor, in a tone now completely divested
of the haughtiness which formerly characterised his
address to his officers. “I have often heard
him speak of it. You had many difficulties to
contend against, if I recollect.”

“We had indeed, sir,” returned the frank-hearted
Erskine, dropping the glass from his eye. “So
many, in fact, that more than once, in the course
of our progress through the wilderness, did I wish
myself at head-quarters with my company. Never
shall I forget the proud and determined expression
of Ponteac’s countenance, when he told Rogers,
in his figurative language, ’he stood in the
path in which he travelled.’ "